Unexpected
by Green Sail
Summary: Gwendal spent lunchtime blowing up Anissina’s office. But it was all Günter’s fault. GwendalGünter shounenai.


Disclaimer: I do not own Kyou Kara Maou. No money is made, no offense intended.

Title: Unexpected

Author: Green Sail

Summary: Gwendal spent lunchtime blowing up Anissina's office. But it was all Günter's fault. Gwendal/ Günter shounen-ai.

Warning: Shounen-ai. Two men kissing. Don't like, don't read, no offense taken.

A/N: I went with Wikipedia on the spelling of Jozak's (Yozak's) name. They spell it with a J but pronounce it with a Y. Like the name Johann.

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Gwendal spent lunchtime blowing up Anissina's office.

To be entirely truthful, as a youth and as an adult, he had entertained many a fantasy involving Anissina's lab, several barrels of flour, and matches. However, he had never quite carried through on any of them because as loathe as he was to admit it, Anissina was a friend. And friends did not blow up one another's offices.

Not to mention he was terrified of what she might do to him when she found out.

So when the day came that he actually did cause an explosion with such unfortunate consequences, Gwendal wasn't sure whether he should feel guilty or elated. Fingers twitching, he cast a glance over to the person standing next to him, covered from head to toe in some outlandish blue powder, and decided to settle on furious.

Because really, it was all Günter's fault.

Gwendal's scowl deepened. The day had started out so well, too! Greta had correctly identified his latest creation as a squirrel, the Maou hadn't fallen on his face in front of the foreign dignitaries, no one had declared war on them, and he and Günter had even managed to avoid being dragged off for the sake of 'The Future of Science,' as Anissina liked to call it.

Or what the Maou had labeled, 'Being used as guinea pigs.'

Gwendal still wasn't even entirely sure what a guinea pig actually was. Not that he would ever let the Maou know that.

So when the midday meal had rolled around, he had been lenient enough to agree to Günter's offhand suggestion that the pair make their way down to the kitchens for some well-earned lunch. Before they could reach their destination however, Günter stopped, placing a light hand on Gwendal's arm.

"Gwendal," he said. "I need to speak with you about something."

To Gwendal's ear he sounded rather subdued.

"Something?"

"It's a private matter."

Baffled, Gwendal gave an abrupt nod. "Go ahead."

Günter paused for a moment. He looked up and down the corridor.

There was no one there.

Gwendal raised an eyebrow.

"Let's go inside," Günter said. He avoided Gwendal's gaze and pulled on the handle of the door nearest to them, gesturing for Gwendal to enter, white sleeves sweeping. Gwendal stepped inside, the lines on his forehead deepening.

Really, Günter needed to stop being so dramatic. If there was some sort of state secret he didn't want anyone eavesdropping on, he ought to have just waited until they were back in their offices. It wasn't as though they were planning on spending the rest of the day in the kitchens.

Of course, the day Günter stopped being dramatic was the day Gwendal walked with a slouch.

As Günter shut the door behind him, Gwendal turned around, expecting perhaps, some dark and clandestine report involving the future of the known world.

Which meant that he was completely unprepared for Günter to_ launch_ himself at him and take hold of his uniform in a death grip, _wailing_ in the most undignified of manners about _how he couldn't hold it in any longer_, but how he felt so _guilty _because Gwendal was a _friend_, and a _colleague_, and he couldn't _help _it, and—

"Make some sense, Günter!" Gwendal barked, backing up and tripping over something on the floor. He fell backwards, grappling for the nearest table. As his finger grasped it though, he realized too late that it was actually just some kind of a stand with a board across it.

The board flipped off its stand and several bottles with what looked suspiciously like Anissina's scrawl on them went flying across the room to crash into a candelabra. The candles dropped one by one, flames licking the mess of broken glass on the floor. The contents smoked a bit, then turned a reddish color.

Gwendal swallowed. "Is that—?"

Surely even Anissina wouldn't keep something like that in an office?

Wouldn't it be safer to contain it in her lab?

**BOOM!**

As the blue dust settled over everything, Günter turned to Gwendal, his voice several octaves higher than normal, hair sticking every which way.

"Why yes, Gwendal," he said, releasing his clutch on Gwendal's uniform jacket to gradually pivot around and eye the damage. A lone piece of parchment fluttered down to the floor. "I do believe that _was_ Anissina's special 'boom-boom' powder."

It was this last statement that had brought them to the current moment.

Gwendal grimaced, jaw working. He wiped his face and looked at the smear of blue across the back of his hand. It was all Günter's fault. What had he been doing, throwing himself at Gwendal like that? Had he gone completely mad?

Beside him, Günter was muttering. "Damn," he said. "Damn, damn, damn." He passed a hand over his eyes. "It's gone all wrong."

Gwendal had never heard Günter swear before.

"Günter," Gwendal said, fighting down his urge to throttle the other. "What were you _doing_?"

Startled, Günter glanced at him as if he had forgotten that Gwendal was even there. He bit his lip. "I didn't want—" he started. "I didn't mean . . . I just . . . damn." He looked away.

Gwendal rarely saw Günter so discomposed. It was unsettling.

"Günter," he said, trying his best to sound like a rational person and not like someone on the brink of murder. "What is going on?"

There was a very brief pause in which Gwendal thought that Günter might actually say something useful. But then Günter shook his head.

"Never mind, Gwendal. Don't worry about it."

Gwendal silently counted to ten. He was an adult. He commanded a damn army. He could keep his temper. His fingers trembled a little.

"Don't . . . _worry_ about it?"

Something had gotten Günter upset enough to blow up Anissina's office and he wasn't supposed to worry about it?

But was he more concerned about Günter's mystery problem or Anissina's revenge?

Taking advantage of the silence that followed, Günter reached for the door, not even looking at him. "Now isn't the best time to discuss it," he said. "We need to find Anissina and tell her what happened. And we need someone to clean this mess up."

Gwendal felt hot irritation course through his veins.

Oh no. He was not about to leave without explaining first. Gwendal refused to let him.

Grinding his teeth, Gwendal stepped in front of the door, blocking Günter's exit. He placed two hands on Günter's shoulders. "Günter," he said. "What. Is. Going. On."

Günter shook his head again, looking sickeningly self-sacrificing and noble.

This was getting ridiculous.

"Günter, spit it out," Gwendal growled.

"Gwendal, I cannot—"

"Günter," Gwendal interrupted. "I did not step willingly into this room to explode Anissina's office and come away with nothing but a coating of blue powder." He pointed at his face for emphasis. "You said you had something to discuss. Stop wasting time and discuss it."

Günter looked up at him. He smiled a sad smile. "It is not—"

Ugh, the melodramatic fool was testing the limits of Gwendal's patience. He scowled some more. Fine. He knew it would come to this. How degrading.

"Günter," he said, preparing himself for an emotion filled confrontation. "I do not like to see you hurt. Speak to me."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

But at least his words seemed to have some effect, if only to stop Günter from reaching for the door again.

Günter nibbled his lower lip as Gwendal watched him, still ready to impede any escape attempts.

"All right," he said. "All right. If you insist, Gwendal."

He pushed his hair back and reached for Gwendal's hands. He removed them from his shoulders and faced him, his gaze half intent and half something else. Was that shame he saw written there?

"I feel first as though I must apologize, Gwendal," he said. "For letting my emotions get the better of me. I— I've never really done something like this before. I am a bit . . . unsure as to how to go about it. Please excuse me."

He rested his hands on Gwendal's shoulders.

Gwendal blinked at the hands on his shoulders and then back to Günter's face.

Günter looked very serious now. Determined, even. "Gwendal von Voltaire," he said, "There is something I have been meaning to discuss with you lately."

In the back of his mind, Gwendal felt a feeling of trepidation creep over him. There had been an unhealthy emphasis on _discuss. _What was Günter saying?

Günter's grip on Gwendal's shoulder's tightened, as if to make sure Gwendal would not bolt. He leaned forward. Before Gwendal had a chance to demand an explanation or even dodge, Günter was kissing him, mouth hot, lips soft.

By the time Gwendal's brain had finished processing what was going on, Günter had already dropped his arms to his sides and stepped away. Gwendal's eyes were wide, jaw slack. His mouth would not cooperate. He felt frozen.

Günter spoke, reaching for the door again. "I would like for you to think about our discussion, Gwendal," he said, his voice carrying something . . . regret? "And when you come up with an answer, I would— I would like to hear it. No matter what it might be." He stepped out into the corridor, but paused at the last second, speaking with his back to Gwendal.

"I will tell Anissina about what happened here," he said. "Do not concern yourself with it."

And then he was gone.

Alone, Gwendal stood in the doorway trying to understand what had just happened. He closed his eyes and Günter's features flashed through his mind.

He had a lot of thinking to do.

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Still dazed, the first thing Gwendal did after leaving Anissina's office was take a bath. Washing the blue powder off his body, he thought about Günter. Did Günter mean that he loved him? That he could love him? Just that he found him sexually attractive?

He dried and stepped into his clothing. Did he think Günter was attractive? Could he love him? He slipped on a bar of soap and landed on the bathroom tiles. Standing, he rubbed his bruised backside. What would it be like, to be Günter's lover?

In his office, he walked back and forth across the carpet, knitting needles clicking. Günter was a colleague. A friend, even. Was that all he was?

"You're going to wear a hole in that carpet," Jozak told him, leaning against the doorway, waiting to give his report.

Gwendal told him to leave the report on the desk along with all the other unfinished paperwork.

When evening rolled around, Gwendal paced his way over to Günter's office. He hesitated a moment, then rapped on the door.

"Enter," Günter said.

Gwendal pushed open the door and stepped in. Günter looked up at him and froze.

"Gwendal!" he said. "I was not expecting to. . ."

Gwendal stood straight. He clenched his fists and spoke to the gilded picture frame hanging above Günter's head. "I have come to finish our previous discussion," he said, voice low, trying to muster the courage for what he was about to do.

He pretended not to notice the quick breath Günter drew as he strode over to Günter's desk, placed his hands on it, and stretched over it to kiss Günter hard on the lips. He straightened and looked a shocked Günter in the eye, breathing heavily.

"When you— when we— in the office," he managed. "I— when you kissed me I felt . . . something. I don't know what. Here," he indicated his chest. "Adrenaline maybe. I—" he shook his head, his mouth tightening. He sounded like some stuttering schoolboy. How humiliating.

"I can't promise you anything, Günter. Not yet. I—" he closed his eyes and then opened them again. "I'm sorry, I can't . . . I can't give you a lover's love now. But I . . . I would like to try, Günter. Because I felt something when you kissed me. I would like to try."

He stopped, his hands closed against his sides, knuckles white. He hadn't felt so embarrassed in years.

Slowly, as if in a dream, Günter stood from his seat and walked around the desk to Gwendal. He reached out and traced Gwendal's cheek. Gwendal stood stock still.

"That is all I ask, Gwendal," he said. "That is all I ask."

_End_

A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed the fic. I found it a bit difficult to get a hold on these characters, so I hope it worked. Thanks for reading! Thanks to all reviewers!

--Green Sail


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